


The Blooming of a Rose

by UnluckyGamerGirl13



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mentions abortion attempt, Mild Language, Other, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22951630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyGamerGirl13/pseuds/UnluckyGamerGirl13
Summary: A seed of evil is planted and attempted to be distinguished. That seed grew into a beautiful rose, one known as Rosalia.She is a rose, a rose with a sharp thorn.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Blooming of a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I've been a huge fan of the game for a while now. This is my first story involving the game, so please be kind. 
> 
> To be honest, I tried. I give you all my oc.

_"Monsters are created, not born."_

That's one thing Rosalia can assure you. She can also tell you for sure how many times her mother whipped her and left scars on her back. Of course, you'd never believe her, no one ever did.

Her mother was a saint, she was the eldest daughter of a rich couple who donated money to every charity possible every year. Every year her mother would visit the children who were given the money and spend time with them. She went to church everyday with her parents and helped the church in any way possible as she got older. When she married she made sure to spend time reading to younger children at the library while her husband worked. That continued until after the birth of her..child.

What they won't tell you was how many times she'd purposefully hurt herself, or the many times she'd drink both pills and alcohol to try and kill the innocent child in her womb. The servants were threatened with being fired if anyone tried to stop their lady from harming her growing child. Rumors were even her husband encouraged said actions and often tried aiding in the abortion.

Unfortunately for her mother, Rosalia was born healthy on December 13th year XXXX. 

As a child, Rosalia was kept separated from society. She was homeschooled, and left to grow alone along the rose garden her mother loved. Seemed to be the only thing she loved since her husband went missing days after the birth of the baby. It was also the place you'd find her while her baby wept in her crib for hours each day. It was a miracle that she hadn't died of starvation or lost her voice.

Often times the young Rosalia was left to her own creativity. The servants there were ordered to never speak to her or pay attention to her, so she often returned to the home with small bloody cuts on her arms or legs or pricks on her tiny fingers and delicate palms from the thorn of said roses. No matter how much they hurt her, Rosalia loved the roses. The same could be said about her mother. 

For years it was the same routine for Rosalia; wake up, get dressed on your own, find food on your own, go out into the rose garden to admire the growing roses, hear the same voice calling out to you from within the rose bushes, try to chase after it, get cut and poked, and hurry out when mother screamed your name for tutoring. If you'd ask her why she was bleeding, Rosalia would shake her head and say it was just her mother's kisses on her hands and legs and run along. If you tried to help her, Rosalia would throw a tantrum and ask that you leave them, for according to her it was the only affection her mother showed her. 

Now, about the whippings, that began around the age of seven. It was all because Rosalia would purposefully cut her mother's roses down with her hands just to feel the "affection" from her mother. Her mother was less than pleased to know her beloved roses were being taken down by her ill daughter. Not to mention Rosalia had also begun carrying a broken pair of scissors and would cut servants or her tutors to "show affection" in her own way. 

At the age of seven and three months, Rosalia had accidentally killed a maid by slicing her veins. The young girl watched in silence as the woman bled to death on the tile of the home. "Feel loved." Rosalia whispered to her as she knelt in the pool of blood to close her eyes. The cold blue eyes that stared back at her own honey brown ones would also stay in her memories. 

Rosalia would also never forget her mother's shriek after finding her in said position, or the expression she made when she stood and tried to hug her with the bloody scissors in her hand. 

She was whipped and locked up in the basement after her mother found out. Her scissors were taken, but that didn't stop Rosalia from feeling her mother's affection for that day. The young girl had found a sharp piece of rubble, she used it to mark her body the way the thorns did before she curled up to sleep on the floor. 

After that night Rosalia seemed to have "recovered" according to her mother.

That just meant Rosalia continued but became more discrete with her actions. She often hid the body herself within the rose bushes or planting a rose onto the body of the deceased for another bush to grow away from the others. 

At the age of eighteen Rosalia committed her famous massacre. "The Rose Massacre," the people of the town called it, over a hundred dead bodies were found over the Malein estate. Each one stabbed to death with a rose buried into one of their eyes and a thorn stuck in their index finger. Had it been a painting one would call it the most heinous yet beautiful piece of art ever created. 

At the center was the "beautiful" woman everyone knew and loved, the rose buried into her eye and one stabbed into her chest. 

The young Rosalia Malein was missing from the massacre. All that was found of hers was a single card, the _queen of hearts_ , which had been cut in half and stabbed with thorns. 

She was never caught, and those searching for her passed on and left only legends and fears to those after them.

That massacre was what enticed the entity towards this young soul. She was 24 and living in a new world. 

Her hair had been dyed red from the original honey brown. Her dresses and heels had been exchanged for ripped jeans and boots. She wore a black cosseted blouse.

Her beautiful honeycomb eyes had died, one of them even gouged out by herself and covered with half a mask. One with a beautiful rose embedded in the center and trailed by thorns. 

This was the new Rosalia, the one who now lived in an abandoned cave within a large forest. The one who now carried a dagger by her side and gave her love to the unlucky people who visited her cave late at night. 

This was the monster the unloving mother created, and the one the entity craved.

The one the entity trapped. 

Rosalia had been out hunting for deer meat when she was met with fog. Having dealt with worse conditions, she paid no mind to them and continued as usual. It felt as if she had been going in circles for hours. 

Rosalia noticed the difference of land only when she stopped in front of a campfire. The people of the area she was in never camped in her forest. They knew it was a danger, with or without her in it. 

Rosalia took a step back and slipped her dagger out as she looked around. Another noticeable thing was the lines on the ground. They were almost like borderlines that separated territories. She no longer was in her forest, but seeming a different world. The moon was high up in the sky, but it held no warmth like hers. The animals around acted like enemies rather than their usual guardian like states. 

It seemed like time came to a halt, and left her senses on high alert. 

Something from her past resurfaced, the same voice that spoke to her in the rose garden spoke up again. _"Come to me my child, become one with me. Let me cherish you as a mother more than your own."_ It whispered softly as the breeze caressed her hair and cheek. Rosalia stepped back and clenched the handle of her dagger. 

She remembered that voice, she remembered it promising her many things, she remembered quietly following it into the rose bushes and then just darkness. When that darkness went away she would hear her mother calling and just the pain from the cuts and pricks shehad as she crawled out. 

"Who are you? What are you?" Rosalia called back as she looked around the surrounding darkness. _"I am your true creator, I am what made you. Come to me my child, join your brothers and sisters."_ It whispered once more, enticing the younger woman even more. "M-mom.." Rosalia whispered as her eyes regained some sense of life, the sooner it came the quicker it was gone. 

Rosalia drowned once more in the **darkness**. 

When she awoke, she no longer stood in front of the campfire. She had been laid down between two rose bushes. Two of the many that surrounded her in the endless maze of roses. 

Rosalia reached up to rub her forehead and felt her mask had been put in place. The rose that had once been painted was now a real rose. The step had grown from within Rosalia's gouged eye, and its thorns ran down the mask as well as blood. 

Any attempts to move it would cause her pain and allow more blood to flow. 

Her dagger had grown and was sharper than before. A single rose laid on the handle which connected Rosalia to her weapon with its thorns. 

_"I am the entity..you are now at my beck and call. You will kill for me, you will sacrifice for me, and you will make me powerful. Death is not an escape, for anyone."_ The voice whispered once more to her as she forced herself to stand. _"This is your domain, the Rose Maze."_ Rosalia looked around noticing the large walls of roses around her and the hooks looming in different places. _"Only you will be able to get through the thorns of every bush, only you will be able to hear the voice of each rose and let it guide you, and only you will be able to grow your thorns onto the hooks to prevent a survivor from leaving your embrace. You will love each survivor like you loved all your servants..like you_ **_loved your mother_ ** _."_ The voice boomed in her head. 

Rosalia closed her eye to listen to the roses. Each one shouted at her, asking for her attention and showering her in admiration. Each one begging for **blood**. She opened her lifeless eye once more and allowed the rose on her mask to bloom. "Let's love everyone." Rosalia whispered monotonously before she quietly began to approach the entrance of her maze. 

The roses gave her warnings of several others around her immediately. 

One whispered about a man with a mask and a bear trap who approached to see the new maze, it told her about how he plucked a rose from her maze and left, leaving only a closed bear trap behind. Another telling her about the wretched woman who crawled up from nearby swamp and growled at the roses, she left behind mud, sticks, and herbs. Another approached to look at the roses. He wiped some blood from his blade onto the petals of a rose, snapped a picture, and walked off into the darkness. 

_"These are your brothers and sisters, they will protect you if they must, but will harm you if you step out of line. Your job is to kill, kill those who defy me, your purpose, and your family. Sacrifice them on these hooks and show me your true power."_ The voice lectured before it was gone. It left Rosalia's ears ringing, but allowed her to finally focus. 

You see, monsters are created not born. Rosalia had been born as innocent and pure as a white rose in the summer, but the wrath of her mother tainted her petals red. 

Now her beloved rose would forever live on with sharper thorns than ever. 

As the priest of the town once said after the massacre, " **god bless those who encounter the rose demon. She will have no mercy upon those who ask for it."**

The entity laughed, those survivors really had no idea what to expect when he played the queen of hearts in his deck.

All they knew was that roses had thorns, and they hurt like a bitch. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, please leave a kudo and comment.
> 
> This work wasn't beta-read so if you see any mistakes tell me! 
> 
> If you wanna discuss your oc killer with me or survivor go ahead! I'm up for collabs or requests with my oc.


End file.
